


Just a Millisecond of Our Forever

by FindingSchmomo



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Afterlife, Character Death, College, Depression, Guardian Angel, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, i cant write bokuto im sorry, i dont know why i wrote this, i just like making oikawa cry tbh, why did I write this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-07-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 18:09:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,101
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4315179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FindingSchmomo/pseuds/FindingSchmomo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Iwaizumi Hajime wakes up to find out that he's been brought into existence to be Oikawa Tooru's Guardian Angel. So why does everything hurt so much?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just a Millisecond of Our Forever

Hajime only knows one thing when he wakes up in the stark white room. That his name is Iwaizumi Hajime. After that it’s all blank, as blank as the empty room surrounding him.

His head throbs and he clutches it with his hands, eyes squinting. His chest burns raw, as if he is splitting in two. His ears ring with a cacophony of noises he can’t make out. Voices? Screeches? Horns? He can’t differentiate anything. And he can’t block any of it out either.

“Let me know when you’re good, buddy.”

And suddenly there is silence, and Hajime rears back to see a man in a pristine white suit standing before him. Everything he wears is white, his shoes, his pants, his socks, his tie, his jacket, hell, even his hair is streaked with white. The man grins at him and Hajime knows his heart must be racing in panic.

And that is when Hajime realizes his second piece of information about himself: his heart isn’t beating at all.

“You good yet?” The man continues, a bit impatient, peering down at him with a pearly white grin. He is blinding. Everything is blinding.

Hajime finds his voice, “Where am I?”

The man shrugs, dancing around him, “You tell me.” He offers, unhelpfully.

Hajime glowers, “What the hell is going on?” He demands, standing up, albeit a bit shakily. He clutches at his side, the pain from before still present but fading.

“Well, what do  _you_  know?” The man keeps on. He is taller than him, which aggravates Hajime more than anything about the situation to be completely honest. It forces him to look up to him. It pisses him off.

“I know I’m Iwaizumi Hajime.” Hajime snaps, crossing his arms, pain gone and now mostly forgotten.

“That’s a good start!” The man laughs, patting his shoulder, and Hajime flinches at the contact. “What else?” The man goes on, unperturbed.

“My heart isn’t beating.” Hajime adds, slowly.

“Hmm.” The man hums, knowingly and his smile only seems to grow.

A realization hits him, “...Am I...Am I dead?” Hajime whispers, suddenly, eyes widening at the very thought. He didn’t even remember being  _alive_. Had he ever been?

The man laughs, clapping his shoulder roughly. Hajime stumbles forward but catches himself, turning around to face the annoying man.

“Well? Answer me!” He shouts, a bit angry, a bit terrified and every bit confused.

The man quiets down his laugh, and shrugs, “I’m not here to give you answers.” He keeps his grin plastered to his face, “What I can tell you, is you’re here to become a Guardian Angel.”

“...What?” Hajime asks, scrunching his eyebrows up at him. “So...I  _am_  dead?” He finishes, a bit hollowly.

The man shakes his head a bit smugly, “Nah. You don’t have to be dead to be a Guardian Angel. You don’t have to ever be alive at all. Do you remember being alive?”

Hajime tries to think, “I...No, I don’t...” He glares at the ground in frustration.

“See? You just started existing a few minutes ago! It happens.” The man assures, and adds with a smile, “Happy Birthday.”

Hajime shoots the man a seething glare. The man waves him off easily and then claps his hands.

“Akaashi!” The man calls, and suddenly there’s another man standing beside him, also dressed crisply in all white. His dark black hair creates a stark contrast. He looks at the white streaked man with an utterly bored expression.

“You called, Bokuto-san?” He recites, mechanically.

“Oh, would it kill you to be excited to see me?” Bokuto whines, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

“Nothing can kill me because I am not alive, Bokuto-san.” Akaashi reminds, shrugging the hand off.

Bokuto huffs at that, looking wounded at the comment. He pulls away and crosses his arms like a child. Hajime is lost. Absolutely lost.

Akaashi notices him then, flipping through a notebook that seems to have suddenly appeared in his hands, “Name?”

Hajime stares. In a flash Bokuto is beside him, no longer sulking, “Answer ‘em, bucko.”

Hajime jumps, and then quickly stammers out, “Iwa-Iwaizumi Hajime.”

Akaashi nods, and the pages fly on his notebook until they reach the right page, “Ok, you’re assigned to Oikawa Tooru.”

“Who?” Hajime questions, trying to search for answers in Akaashi’s bland expression. He finds none. “What’s going on?”

Akaashi folds his notebook in half to better read the exposed page. He reads, “Oikawa Tooru: 23, single, college senior. Physical ailments: broken leg, minor cuts and bruises. Mental ailments: depression, suicidal thoughts.”

Hajime blinks at the alarming information, a stirring in his chest he can’t quite explain, “What does this have  _anything_  to do with me? I don’t know who that is. I don’t know who any of you are!”

Bokuto laughs. Akaashi sighs, “I am Akaashi. He is Bokuto-san. Your human is Oikawa Tooru. You’ve been assigned to watch over him. Make sure he doesn’t do anything bad. Make sure he doesn’t die. Be his Guardian Angel.”

“But I? What?” Hajime flounders, “I don’t even know who  _I_  am?”

“You said you were Iwaizumi Hajime.” Akaashi repeats, looking over his notes. Hajime growls under his breath in frustration.

“That’s not what I mea--“

“Oh man, it seems we’re out of time.” Bokuto quickly interrupts, grasping Hajime’s shoulders and leaning over to whisper in his ear, “Time to go.” He shoves Hajime toward the door, smile still in place on his face.

“Out of time? What?” Hajime splutters, trying to dig his heels into the slippery tile to stay. He needs answers, damn it. What the  _fuck_  was going on?

“Well, more like your human’s about to be out of time if you don’t do anything!” Bokuto nods sagely, as Akaashi opens the door for him.

Hajime scrambles for purchase on the doorframe, “Wait! Wait! What am I suppose to do? How do--“

“Good luck!” Bokuto calls with a final push and Hajime is out the door.

And falling.

Falling down down down.

Hajime screams as the air rushes past him and he twists and turns to do  _something_ to save himself. He thinks his heart should be racing but there’s nothing there to beat. The ground is coming up at him fast and he squeezes his eyes shut and braces himself for impact.

An impact that never comes.

He opens his eyes tentatively to find himself standing on an empty bridge in cloaked in darkness. He lets out a long sigh of relief. And then a laugh. Because everything has been absolutely absurd since he’s been conscious and he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t really know what to think.

It’s very dark and very empty on the bridge, he notices. It’s probably past midnight, but only by a little. The moon is shining high above him, a sliver of light in a starless sky. There’s a flickering streetlamp illuminating his corner of the bridge.

And then he notices he’s not alone at all.

There is a man who has managed to seat himself on the railing of the bridge, staring out at the river slowly flowing beneath them. Hajime can only see his back. He’s wearing what seems to be pajamas, as if he’d gotten out of bed for a midnight stroll in what he was in and  _who even does that?_

The man looks relaxed on his perch, and a hand moves up to comb through his brown locks. And then they tighten in his hair as if he wants to pull all the strands out in a sudden fit of anger. And then there is a heave of his shoulders as they quake and  _is he crying_?

Hajime frowns, taking a few steps forward, coming up behind the man, “Uh, hey...” He manages to voice out awkwardly, concerned.

The man freezes, whirling around and once their eyes meet he lets out a shrill terrified shriek.

Hajime is taken aback by how raw it is. Does he look that scary? But then again, the man probably didn’t expect to see anyone at this time of night.

The man is so startled that he’s falling back.  _Back into the river_ , Hajime realizes suddenly and grabs for him. His hand phases through and the man  _screams again_  and Hajime curses and then he thinks  _if I don’t grab him he’s dead_  and suddenly he can grab him, and he does. He grabs him and wrenches him backwards with all his strength.

The man falls to the ground in a heap, letting out another shout of pain, probably because, as Hajime suddenly notices, his foot is in a thick medical boot and he’s just landed on it. Shit.  

“Hey--“

“GET AWAY!” The man screams trying to back away, half crawling backwards. Hajime hesitates. The man looks like a mess, eyes irritated and overflowing with tears. His entire body is trembling.

“Look--“ Hajime tries to explain but the man has turned away, covering his ears tightly and whispering to himself. He’s curled up there on the ground, eyes squeezed shut, shaking. He looks awful. There’s a burning pain in Hajime’s chest and he decides it must be pity.

And then Hajime remembers why he was here in the first place, “Wait, are you Oikawa Tooru?”

And the man looks back at him, horror stricken, probably because some weird stranger in the night knew who he was. The man is about to say something, but then Hajime sees white.

And he’s back in the all white tiled room.

“Is this the fastest anyone’s screwed up?”

Hajime looks up to find that he’s now seated in a chair, facing a large desk. Bokuto is sitting behind it, legs placed on the desk, trying not to laugh. Akaashi stands beside him letting out a sigh.

Hajime wants to cry.

“Someone  _please_  tell me what the  _fuck_  is happening?!” He practically begs, and maybe all the emotions are suddenly hitting him because he just realizes that Oikawa Tooru was about to kill himself and would have too if he hadn’t grabbed him and it takes a lot out of someone to realize that. There’s a pain in his chest and it wont go away and he doesn’t know what the hell he’s even doing. Or why he’s doing it. Or why everything is suddenly so very upsetting.

Akaashi sighs again, “Bokuto-san, this is your fault for not following protocol.”

“Protocol is boring.” Bokuto counters, but then continues, “You can’t make yourself physical, Iwaizumi. It’s against the rules.”

“Rules?” Hajime repeats, staring at him. He’s exhausted. He’s in pain. He doesn’t want to talk to these people.

Akaashi sighs for the third time, “Let me explain. From the beginning.”

And Hajime feels like Akaashi really might just be an angel.

“You have been brought to this existence in order to be a Guardian Angel. You have been assigned to a human. Your purpose is to protect this human, how you do so is up to your own disgression, within the rules.”

“Rules.” Iwaizumi repeats, again.

“Yes. Rule 1: Do not become physical.” Akaashi begins to recite from his notebook.

Bokuto cuts in immediately, “See, you broke rule number one within five minutes.” Akaashi shoots him a look to be quiet, which is easily ignored, “It’s kind of impressive to be honest.”

Akaashi tries to continue, “Rule 2: Do not develop feelings for the human.”

“That’s mostly for your own sake,” Bokuto interrupts again, “I mean what with them being mortal and you not.”

Akaashi coughs, and Bokuto falls silent with a pout, “Rule 3: Do not impact the human’s life negatively.” Bokuto nods and for once does not interrupt.  “Your main objective is to have a positive effect on the human’s life and well being.” Akaashi finishes.

Hajime takes a deep breath, taking it all in, realizing this is all real, “And I  _have_  to do this?”

“Yes.” Akaashi answers simply, with a nod

Hajime frowns, scratching the back of his neck, “What if I...I fail?”

Bokuto grins, “Well, you don’t get your wings, that’s one. And you’ll have to talk to Kuroo for more info on the exact consequences.”

“Kuroo?” Hajime blinks.

“One of the higher level demons.” Akaashi explains easily. He turns his notebook to demonstrate an image of a grinning man with crazy black hair.

“Demons?” Hajime repeats, dumbly but at this point he’s just believing everything on face-value.

“Yes. Oh. I guess we never introduced ourselves.” Akaashi, thinks a loud, “Bokuto-san and I are both Angels in charge of Guardian assignment.”

“I’m the one in charge.” Bokuto reminds, grinning up at Akaashi, “Akaashi is my faithful assistant.”

Hajime wonders if the angels were this awful, then the demons must be a helluva lot worse.

“Look, I’m feeling generous,” Bokuto speaks up getting Hajime’s attention once more, “I may not have given you enough information before dropping you into the job, so we’ll let the rule number one slip up slide.” As he assures this, he snaps his fingers and the paper Akaashi is writing on evaporates. Akaashi makes a face.

“But, it’s three strikes and you’re out, ya hear?” Bokuto adds, with a sudden new seriousness in his tone that Hajime didn’t know the other was capable of.

He nods after a moment, squeezing his hands together on his lap.

Bokuto grins, “Great! The door’s there! Or do you need another push?”

“I...I can manage.” Hajime states, standing up weakly. He takes a deep breath, and moves toward the door. He hesitates, “And if...if I have any more questions?” He tries, nervously.

“Just follow your gut!” Bokuto waves off, and Hajime feels a little gush of wind push him through the door a that. He squeezes his eyes shut, ready for the fall.

But there is nothing.

He opens his eyes, and he’s standing in a dirty kitchen. His hands are clutching a piece of paper. In neat handwriting it reads,

_The falling is just one of Bokuto’s theatrics. You will do fine, Iwaizumi-san. -Akaashi_

The paper evaporates from his hands and he takes a deep breath.

 _Here we go_.

* * *

Hajime notices that the kitchen around him is absolutely filthy. The dishes in the sink are piled high and crusted over. He wants to gag at the sight. The trash can is overflowing in takeout boxes, and there is a second trash bag beside it, almost as full. He doesn’t really want to investigate the room further.

He steps out of the kitchen to find the living room. He seems to be in a small apartment. In the living room he finds the same Oikawa Tooru, lying on his couch, huddled under a space themed blanket. He has headphones on, rustling up his already ruffled brown hair. He has dark bags under his eyes that Hajime hadn’t noticed the night before.

That reminds him. He can tell it’s early afternoon by the light filtering through the thin shades of the window. That and the microwave was flashing that it was almost 2pm. He wonders if the bridge episode had happened last night. He wasn’t sure how time worked when you were an angel.

Oikawa Tooru hasn’t noticed him. He’s focused on the television. He’s watching a documentary, but Hajime doesn’t know what they’re saying because he’s somehow managed to plug his headphones into the TV.

Hajime doesn’t really know how to step in without terrifying the man again. And he really doesn’t want to see him cry like he did. He doesn’t know if he can take the sight of the man crying. For some reason it burns his chest.

And then as if on cue, Oikawa shuts the TV off and slips off his headphones. Iwaizumi ducks back into the kitchen but peers around to watch.

Oikawa sighs, he threads his fingers through his hair, rubs at his eyes, and then...just sits there. Staring at his table, covered in takeout boxes and piled up magazines. He wraps himself tighter in his blanket.

He looks so sad. So unbelievably sad.

Hajime feels a tug in his chest.

He clears his throat.

Oikawa whirls around and Hajime stares at him. Oikawa stares back and then he screams, and falls off his couch.

 _Shit_.

Hajime rushes forward and then remembers he can’t touch the guy so he awkwardly stands there, over him. Oikawa is pale, grappling for purchase while also tightening his grip on his blanket, as if it’ll protect him.

“Calm down.” Hajime tries.

“GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!” Oikawa screams, throwing a magazine at him. The item fazes through Hajime without him flinching, although it does feel a bit weird.

Oikawa screams again at the sight.

“I’m not going to hurt you!” Hajime tries, holding his hands up in defeat. Why wasn’t he given a manual? He had no idea how to do this.

“YOU AREN’T REAL!” Oikawa shouts and it sounds like he’s saying it to remind himself rather than inform Hajime of his own non-existence. “YOU’RE NOT REAL. YOU’RE NOT HERE.” He keeps repeating like a mantra.

“Hey, please, just, let me explain--“ Hajime keeps trying and failing, starting to get aggravated.

But Oikawa has curled into a ball now on the floor, holding his head tightly with his hands, “You’re not real. You’re not real. You’re a figment of my imagination. You are my mind playing tricks on me. You can’t be  _real_. _”_ He’s whispering to himself, his eyes squeezed shut and hands clasped as if in prayer.

Hajime swallows. He feels like shit. He doesn’t know what to do. So he does the only thing he can think of. He sits down on the floor next to the man, and lets him be. He’ll wait.

Oikawa doesn’t uncurl himself for a long long time. And he keeps his desperate mantra going. And even though it doesn’t work, it does seem to calm himself down enough for him to finally lift his head up.

He’s trembling all over, he looks like a mess and Hajime feels his chest tightening again. He wonders if its an angel thing. To feel intense pain at the sight of your assigned human’s suffering. It must be. There’s no other reason for it.

Oikawa looks at him, eyebrows furrowed in a pained expression, “Why are you  _here?_  Why won’t you leave me alone?” He whispers hollowly.

“I’m here to protect you.” Hajime tries to explain, albeit awkwardly. He rubs the back of his neck and feels his face redden a bit. He’s not good at comforting. And the words sound so awkward on his lips.

He doesn’t really understand why that makes Oikawa start crying again, burying his face in his hands. But then he remembers that Akaashi stated the man was severely depressed, so who knows how he would react to anything.

“You’re not real.” Oikawa repeats, when he calms down again. He’s speaking through the gaps in his fingers, refusing to look at him.

“Kind of.” Hajime allows.

“You’re a figment of my cruel imagination.” Oikawa decides.

“Not really.” Hajime cuts in.

Oikawa sighs, and suddenly seems so passive, and his eyes look glassy. “I’m going insane.” He realizes, “I always knew I would go insane. I just thought it would be because of alien experimentation not...” He waves at Hajime’s entire person, “Not  _this_.”

Hajime doesn’t really know if it’s an insult, but he huffs anyways, “Can I talk now?”

Oikawa decides to lie down on the ground, hugging his blanket tightly, “Does it even matter anymore?” He wonders allowed. Hajime has the sudden urge to kick him but he refrains. Mostly because he physically can’t. Well, not without getting in trouble.

“I’ve been assigned to be your Guardian Angel to keep you from doing something stupid.”

Oikawa snorts. “I can’t believe this.” And he’s shaking again but Hajime realizes he’s not crying but rather letting out a hollow laugh. He doesn’t know which is worse.

“I’m here to help you.” Hajime continues, with a frown.

“Then leave me alone.” Oikawa mutters, “Get out of my head.”

Hajime rolls his eyes, “I’m not leaving you. I can’t. Not until you’re better, at least.”

Oikawa lets out a whine, or it would be his voice wasn’t so hoarse, “My mind knows exactly what to make you say to kill me doesn’t it?”

And Hajime doesn’t really understand what he means, so he stands up and changes the subject, “This place is a mess.”

Oikawa doesn’t say anything, gripping the blanket tighter.

“Clean it up.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Oikawa snaps, sitting up, clutching the blankets to his chest. “Go away.”

Hajime sits down on the couch, crossing his arms. He waits. Oikawa looks at him incredulously, and then there’s a flash of sadness in his eyes and Hajime thinks he might start crying again, but instead he stands up with an exasperated sound. He hobbles out of the room toward the kitchen, dragging the blanket with him.

Hajime smiles to himself.

He can probably do this.

Probably.

* * *

“Will you go away with therapy?” Oikawa wonders aloud as he eats from his bowl of cereal at his table. Hajime sits across from him, watching him, since he cant really eat. He rolls his eyes at the comment and Oikawa smiles into his bowl.

He’s been around for about two weeks now and he has learned a lot about himself, about being an angel, but mostly about Oikawa Tooru.

He had managed to bully Oikawa into cleaning up his entire apartment over the course of a week and a half. The trash was gone, the dishes away, and Oikawa himself had started to wear clothes other than pajamas. Hajime kind of wants to pat himself on the back for his efforts.

Oikawa cleans up well, he also realizes when Oikawa steps out that morning freshly showered in actual day clothes. In this case, a tight pair of jeans and graphic tea. His hair is still wet from the shower, but it’s nicely brushed and Hajime feels that damn tightening in his chest that only seems to be getting worse. This one isn’t painful at least. Just kind of a swell of  _something_  he can’t quite place.

Oikawa munches on his cereal, looking at him, “Will you?” He repeats.

“Eat your damn cereal, Oikawa.” Hajime snaps.

Oikawa smiles, and does as he’s told. But he can’t stay quiet for long. That’s something Hajime has definitely learned during his stay.

“Did you appear because I stopped going to therapy?” Oikawa continues thinking, “Or because I stopped taking those anti-depressants?” He takes another spoonful of cereal in his mouth. “Or both?”

“I’m your Guardian Angel.” Hajime explains for the billionth time. Oikawa makes a face around his spoon.

“Why is my mind so sappy.” Oikawa sighs, finishing his breakfast and setting it down in the empty sink to soak. He stretches. “Will you let me be now?”

“No.” Hajime denies, standing up, “Come on, we’re going out.”

Oikawa freezes, and the apathetic attitude melts away in favor of fear, “What?”

“You haven’t left your apartment since I appeared here. You need fresh air. Put your shoes on.”

Oikawa swallows, looking down, “Where are we going?” He whispers.

“Grocery shopping, at the very least.”

Oikawa visibly winces, “I have a boot on.”

Hajime isn’t impressed, “You walk around just fine with it on. You’ll be fine. Put your shoes on, or, er shoe.”

“Why does my own mind hate me so much?” Oikawa sighs out bitterly, trudging over to put his shoe on and follow orders. Hajime follows after him, watching him sternly.

Once they’re outside, they walk in silence, mostly because to others it would seem like Oikawa was talking to himself. Oikawa walks with his head down, staring at the sidewalk beneath his feet. He looks...lost in his own mind. And out of character. Hajime doesn’t understand  _why_  he hates seeing him like this so much since he’s known him for so little time. It must be angel stuff.

He kind of feels bad for forcing the man out of the house. Maybe he was pushing him too hard. Still, at least the grocery store is in sight, just another block straight ahead. And then they can go back home.

Oikawa takes a sudden left.

“Where are you going?” Hajime demands, following after him powerlessly, “The store is over there.”

Oikawa doesn’t answer, he just keeps trudging forward. His hands are shoved deep into his pockets. He’s not looking at him.

“Oikawa.” Hajime tries.

Oikawa puts his hands over his ears and keeps walking, briskly.

Hajime grits his teeth, “Oikawa!”

“You’re not even real.” Oikawa snaps out in a hushed voice, “You’re not here. You’re not real. You’re just my depression manifesting itself into...into  _this_.”

Oikawa turns right.

Hajime follows wordlessly because when Oikawa gets in these moods he can’t do much but let him ride them out. Anymore interaction and Oikawa would start crying and block him out completely. And it physically hurt him to see the human like that. Must be side effects of rule number  three? Hajime doesn’t really know. But he’s following his gut like Bokuto advised. It’s all he really can do.

After a bit more walking, Hajime soon realizes Oikawa is still going to the grocery store, he’s just taking a longer more roundabout route.

Hajime decides not to press on the matter.

His chest is tightening again and he ignores it.

* * *

Things settle into a rhythm and Hajime knows Oikawa is getting better. He still gets into slumps. He still drags his feet around. But he  _is_ getting better. He is smiling more. He teases Hajime more. He is talking about himself more.

He’s absolutely certain he’s getting better.

He isn’t prepared for what happens one night near the end of Oikawa’s summer break.

Hajime doesn’t necessarily  _need_  to sleep, but there isn’t much else to do when Oikawa is in bed. So he lies on the couch and rests. That or he tries to think of more ways to get Oikawa out of his shell, and to convince him that he isn’t really a figment of his conscious but his own being.

He’s interrupted by a scream.

Oikawa hadn’t screamed in a long time, so the sound makes him scramble of the couch and zoom into Oikawa’s room in a flash. A panic seizing him, fearing the worst.

He finds Oikawa clutching at his pillow, shaking in his bed in a cold sweat. The brunet is still sleeping, hissing into his pillow, twisting and turning and crying.

And Hajime realizes Oikawa must be having a horrendous nightmare. And Hajime has no idea what to do. He instinctively reaches his hand out and watches as it phazes through the the other’s pale skin. He bites his lip and retracts it, leaning over to get closer to the other’s shuddering face.

“Oikawa.” He tries and he gets a reaction. Not the one he wanted, however. Oikawa lets out such a guttural cry at the sound, hands gripping onto his pillow even tighter. Hajime flinches. His chest tightens worse than he’s ever felt before. He clutches at it, confused, getting increasingly scared himself.  

He bites his lip harder, “Oikawa it’s going to be ok.” He tries weakly. It’s hard to sound comforting when your voice has a natural rough quality. But he tries. He tries so damn hard.

Oikawa whimpers again into his pillow, and his legs kick out, and the he sleep murmurs, in a strained voice, “ _Please don’t leave me_.”

Hajime doesn’t understand why he feels so cold all of a sudden, like a sudden wave has hit him making his entire body numb. He doesn’t understand why his chest clenches, why his palms sweat, when he hears the desperate quality of Oikawa’s voice. He doesn’t understand why he feels like crying. What he does know is that  _the rules can go fuck themselves_.

He crawls into the bed and wraps his arms around the shivering man, concentrating on being able to touch him. And suddenly he can feel the trembling man in his arms, and he inhales sharply.

Oikawa is much hotter than he expects him to be, and he wonders if the poor man has a fever. He tugs him closer to him, “It’s gonna be ok.” He murmurs, running a hand through his brown sweaty hair, marveling at the softness of it.

Oikawa visibly quiets, though his breaths are still shaky against Haime’s skin.

Hajime pulls him even closer and he’s not sure why he’s compelled to do so, nor why he feels the absolute need to say, “I’m right here.”

* * *

In the morning, Oikawa blinks his eyes open, nuzzling into the warm body cuddling him. Hajime lets him, and Oikawa hums a happy sound. His sleepy brown eyes look up at him and Hajime is struck by the gaze. By the utter trust, utter warmth, utter  _love_  in his eyes.

It makes his chest tighten and his body pull back.

“Iwa-chan?” Oikawa murmurs through the sleep filled haze. His hands reach out to cup Hajime’s face, tracing his features with a sense of reverence. Hajime doesn’t know how to react, doesn’t know why he’s compelled to lean forward and kiss this man he’s known for maybe a month. He doesn’t understand why his chest is killing him. He doesn’t know understand he feels like crying. He doens’t understand why these same feelings keep plaguing him over and over.

“Was everything just a bad dream?” Oikawa continues, looking at him slowly. And then he leans forward to press a chaste kiss to Hajime’s lips. Hajime stops thinking then, and because of that, he suddenly loses his physical form and Oikawa face plants into his pillow with a surprised grunt.

He sits back up, wide eyed, and looks over to see Hajime. He looks terrified, confused, stricken. Upset.

“You...” Oikawa breathes and then he’s pulling at his hair and drawing his knees to his chest. “I touched  _you_. You were  _real_. I thought...I thought...”

“Oikawa.”

“I’ve gone completely insane.” Oikawa murmurs to himself, cradling his face, “I...I’m in denial. You’re not really there. You’re  _not_. I...” He shudders out a breath.

“Oikawa, for the last time I’m not your imagination.” Hajime snaps, getting out of the bed, “I’m your Guardian Angel.”

“What does that even  _mean_?” Oikawa pleads, gripping his covers tightly, “You don’t look like an angel. You don’t have wings. Why do you look like  _this_? Why did you have to look like this?”

“Look, I don’t know much either.” Hajime insists, trying to calm his own trembling, “I just kinda appeared and they told me I was assigned to you.”

Oikawa looks at him weakly, “When will you go away? When will you stop haunting me?”

Hajime doesn’t understand Oikawa’s desperation for him to go away. He doesn’t know if he wants to understand it. He thought he was making him better? “I’m here to help you, to protect you.”

Oikawa shoves the blankets off him, glaring at Hajime fiercely, forcing Hajime to take a step back, “Stop saying that! Stop! Stop  _torturing_  me!” And although he’s glaring it sounds more like begging. Hajime doesn’t know what to say. Oikawa lets out an angry sigh before climbing out of his bed and hobbling out into his kitchen.

Hajime feels a tug on his arm and looks down to find his hand clutching a rolled up note. He unfurls it.

_That was strike two, Iwaizumi-san - Akaashi_

* * *

“You’re going to class.” Hajime repeats firmly, arms crossed.

Oikawa is frowning, “I know.” He mutters, gripping his mug of hot tea tighter.

“So why are you still here?” Hajime continues, “You’ll be late.”

Oikawa glowers, downing the rest of his drink and putting in the sink, “Fine. I’m going.”

They’re quiet the entire trip over. Oikawa keeps his head down, and he refuses to speak. Hajime walks beside him, phasing through the people who get in his way. He notices that a lot of people, as they near the university, try to wave at Oikawa, to engage with him, especially the girls.

Oikawa gives them sad smiles and keeps going. And none of them seem all that bothered. There’s concern in their eyes and understanding. It’s unsettling.

When they get to Oikawa’s first class he notices that the seat beside him is empty, despite the fact that most of the people in the classroom had greeted the brunet as if they were friends. Iwaizumi decides to sit in it.

Oikawa looks miserable. Hajime decides to keep pushing regardless

Hajime decides to keep pushing regardless, “Oikawa, take out your damn notebook.”

Oikawa flinches, and he holds his face in his hands and it’s almost like he’s about to start crying right there. Like he has to focus his entire body in order to not. Hajime swallows and his chest is doing that awful thing again.

“Hey, wait...Don’t...Come on don’t cry now.” He tries to soothe, looking around. But he’s no good at being soothing. Oikawa doesn’t look at him.

“ _Don’t do this to me here_.” Oikawa hisses, shoving his hands into his eyes as if that’ll push the tears back, “God, you act  _just like him_.”

Something in Iwaizumi’s chest tightens again and his body feels cold. He falls silent. In fact, he phases out of his form completely.

Instead he hovers above and watches as Oikawa notices his departure, looking around wildly in confusion before taking a deep breath. He’s whispering to himself again but Iwaizumi is too far to listen.

He decides to maybe just...let him be for while. His chest is bubbling and he doesn’t understand why suddenly  _he_  is so miserable. Maybe he needs to take a step back, figure stuff out. Although his actions were making Oikawa better outwordly, he might be doing more damage internally than he ever thought.

He doesn’t want that.

He wants Oikawa to be happy.

He wants Oikawa to be happy most of all.

He doesn’t understand why the thought is so important to him,  _critical_  even.

* * *

“Bokuto.”

Bokuto jumps from where he is playing his app game, standing up to attention, “Daichi! You doing good buddy?”

Daichi doesn’t look impressed from where he stands in his white suit, “There’s been a mistake.”

Bokuto blinks, “Mistake? What are you talking about?”

Daichi looks through the notebook he materializes in his hands, “I was supposed to admit an Iwaizumi Hajime through the gates a  _month_  ago and he never showed up. I assumed he was just taking his time in limbo, you know how humans can get distracted, but this is excessive.”

Bokuto’s eyes widen.

Daichi continues, “So I checked with Kuroo which was a hassle in it of itself in case he got lost and went down instead of up but he hasn’t heard from him either.” Daichi levels him a look, “But then he said you got a new recruit that sounded like the guy?”

Bokuto laughs a little, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “Man, we never screw up like this? I wonder how we fucked it up. But yeah, Iwaizumi came by here and he was assigned a human to protect.”

Daichi frowns, “That’s odd...so he was listed as having an assignment?”

“Yep! Looked pretty usual, like he’d been created to protect the guy. Everything checked out.” Bokuto shrugs. “I mean he did seem more confused than most but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“Who was he assigned to?” Daichi presses, a growing worry manifesting itself in his stomach.

“Uh…” Bokuto flips through his own notebook, “Some guy named Oikawa Tooru.” He reads.

Daichi purses his lips, looking back at his page, “...This isn’t good.”

Bokuto waves him off nonchalantly, “It’s just a mix up. Here, I’ll call him over, and you can take him and we’ll get someone else for Oikawa easy peasy.”

“No. This is a  _major_  mix up.” Daichi snaps, anger flaring, “It’s probably already caused irreparable mental damage. Humans aren’t as hardy as us you know? We need to fix this ASAP. Bring him here  _now_.” He barks sternly, glaring at the other angel fiercely.

Bokuto pales a little and calls for Akaashi.

* * *

It happens on accident, a few days after the class incident. He’d been keeping his distance and Oikawa seemed to be doing better because of it. Which Hajime doesn’t fully understand, because he thought his presence was needed? If his presence only made the man worse why was he  _here?_

And one day he’s hovering over Oikawa, and he notices he has his Facebook open on his laptop. And when Hajime looks over his shoulder he sees himself.

And it makes him freeze.

Oikawa scans through the pictures pausing on the ones of himself with Hajime, usually selfies. There are some from high school in volleyball uniforms, there are some of them holding medals together, there are some from when they were even younger. And then he recognizes some from this very apartment, and some from the college campus.

Oikawa stops on a selfie with Hajime laughing, and Oikawa grinning at him, arm pulling him into the frame. And Hajime sees that Oikawa is crying now, quietly to himself, fingers trembling on his trackpad.

And then Hajime realizes he’s crying as well because everything is suddenly coming back to him. The life, the friendship, the love, the  _crash_ , “I’m  _dead_.” He whispers, and it makes Oikawa jump from his spot on the couch and almost fall, letting out a loud surprised yelp.

* * *

“How was I supposed to know he was a human? And related to the guy we were sending to protect him? Nothing looked out of the ordinary!” Bokuto insists, holding his hands out in front of him.

“Humans have memory loss from traumatic deaths all the time! And if a human dies with a such a strong intent of protection, well, it might cause a mistake! But you should have double checked!” Daichi snaps back, clenching his fists.

“Look, my bad alright! But we’ll get him here and send him your way and it’ll be  _fine._ ” Bokuto tries.

“Where  _is_  he?” Daichi demands.

“Akaashi!” Bokuto calls, and there’s a bit of a panic lacing his words.

“Bokuto-san, there’s a problem.” Akaashi murmurs, appearing next to him, “He’s not responding, or, he’s refusing to.”

* * *

“Shittykawa, I swear to god we’re going to be late to class because of you.” Hajime snaps, but he’s got a little smile on his face regardless.

Oikawa waves him off, “Stop worrying so much Iwa-chan, you  _know_  the professor is always late by ten minutes there’s no need to rush.”

Hajime rolls his eyes, “Are you done yet?”

“Nope.” Oikawa replies easily, “Ooh, look the grocery store! That reminds me we need to stock up.” 

“Oikawa. We need to go to  _class_.” Hajime reminds with a huff, “We’ll shop after.”

Oikawa sighs, “Fiiiiiiine. So mean, Iwa-chan.”

“Mean?” Hajime repeats, “I’m mean because I care about your grades?”

Oikawa laughs, and finally trots up to him, slipping his hand into his. “Alright, alright, we can go now.”

Hajime smiles a little, squeezing the hand in his, and the pair start walking down the crosswalk.

And the next thing Hajime sees is a car smash into a large truck. And the large truck veering toward them. And then he sees Oikawa looking terrified at the behemoth coming at them and all he thinks is  _I need to get Tooru out of here._

And the next thing he knows he’s shoving Oikawa out of the brunt of the impact with all his strength, watching him roll across the pavement with a shout, and cringes as he sees Oikawa’s leg still manages to fall under a wheel.

And then he just feels searing hot pain all across his middle and there are flashes of white. And there’s voices and screeching and horns.

And then there is nothing.

* * *

There’s a tug on Hajime’s arm, a sudden forceful pull but he’s too distraught with his sudden realization to give it any mind. Instead, he looks at Oikawa, staring at him, a bit terrified after not seeing him for a few days.

Haijme knows he’s crying but he feels like it’s acceptable in this situation.

“I’m dead?” He repeats, and suddenly the pain in his chest makes sense. And suddenly the pain in Oikawa’s eyes makes sense. And suddenly  _everything_  makes sense.

“Why are you back  _haunting me?_ ” Oikawa shouts, standing up looking _furious_. “Get out of my head!”

“Oikawa--”

“No I don’t want to hear you! You’re a manifestation of my depression and I’m  _so sick_  of seeing you. You’re dead! I can’t keep seeing you everywhere I  _go_. I can’t  _live_  like this! With you haunting me every moment of every day!”

“Tooru--”

“ _Stop!_ ” Oikawa shouts, covering his ears and turning away in order to concentrate. To will him out of his life. To be left in peace. Because peace may be lonely but at least there wasn’t a constant reminder of what  _could have been_.

Oikawa doesn’t expect the sudden contact he feels. The embrace from behind of strong familiar arms wrapping around his midsection, enveloping him in warmth, tugging him close. It’s too real. It’s  _too real_. And he’s reminded of the moment in bed when he could have sworn he had touch Hajime’s face and kissed his lips and felt his warmth.

But no. Hajime is  _dead_. And he needs to accept that.

“Tooru, I’m so sorry.” Hajime begins, grip tightening, “I...I don’t really know what’s happening but I remember everything now. I...Fuck.”

Oikawa doesn’t know what to do, because the arms around feel so real and it’s jarring, “You’re not  _real_.” He pleads.

Hajime spins him around delicately, as if he’ll break otherwise, and to be honest he might, “Oikawa, I did die. And then they sent me down here, without my memories to protect you.”

Oikawa stares at him, “I don’t understand. You’re not  _real_. You died in the crash. I  _saw_  you die.” He insists, trembling.

“You’re right. Ok, you’re right. And you’re miserable. And...And it’s my fault you’re miserable but I don’t want you to be miserable. I need you to be happy. I need you to be a piece of shit to everyone around you. I need you to be your loveable charismatic self. I need you to be Oikawa Tooru.” Hajime rambles, because he doesn’t really know what else to say. He feels like he’s been granted his final words and he’s not ready to deliver them. So they come in a rush and trip over themselves. Because he’s not ready. He’s not ready at all.

Oikawa just keeps staring at him.

“I...I’m gonna get in trouble.” Hajime continues, feeling another forceful tug on his arm that he shoves away, “I’m not supposed to touch you but I am and so they might not let me come back so...I…” He squeezes Oikawa tightly, desperately. But the words are failing him.

Oikawa still won’t speak. Just keeps looking down at him with hollow, disbelieving eyes.

“I’m so shitty at words.” He hisses, angrily at himself, “Just...be happy, for me.”

Oikawa nods numbly, because what else can he do?

Hajime pulls back and leans up to press a kiss on Oikawa’s lips, and it’s the one thing that mak’s Oikawa hold him back, clutch at his arms.

And then Hajime is gone. It’s all much too abrupt and without any ceremony. And Oikawa falls forward into thin air in a cold sweat, hugging himself tightly. He lets out a shuddering whimper and crumples to the ground. 

He’s gone. 

He’s been gone. 

He’s never coming back.

* * *

“Iwaizumi! So happy you could finally join us.” Bokuto states sarcastically, giving him a deadpan. Hajime is unfazed. He hadn’t finished everything he wanted to tell Oikawa. He wasn’t ready for any of this. Never had been. 

“Iwaizumi, we’re extremely sorry but there has been a terrible mix up.” Another white suited man he doesn’t recognize apologizes. Iwaizumi barely gives him a glance. He thinks about how Oikawa has been crying himself to sleep every night because of him. He clenches his fists. 

“See, turns out you _were_ alive! Ain’t that funny?” Bokuto forces out a laugh, bringing his attention back to the current moment.

“I know.” Hajime mutters.

“Oh you know! Great. I mean, wait, what? You  _know_?” Bokuto repeats, blinking, “Do you hear that, Daichi? He knows!”

Daichi frowns, leaning forward, “How much do you know?”

“That I died in some freak car accident and that my boyfriend has been miserable because of it for months.” Hajime snaps back, “And you pulled this stunt to make us both feel even  _worse_.”

Bokuto grimaces.

Daichi sighs, “We’re very sorry. But don’t worry, you won’t be going down again. If you’ll follow me you’ll be sent to heaven where you  _should_  have gone in the first place.”

Hajime hesitates because that’s not really what he wants to here, “...Can’t I see him again first?” 

“No.” Daichi states firmly, “Who knows what kind of mental strain and trauma your presence the past few weeks has caused him. We can not risk it getting any worse. Humans should not see the dead.”

“So that’s it? It’s over? I’m dead and I can’t ever see him? And I’m just supposed to rot away up here?” Hajime growls, frustrated. Because he had missed out all those weeks to do something about it. He had ruined his chances. 

“You can still watch over him.” Daichi softens, “But from up here. It’s much safer. For both of you.”

Hajime frowns, “But then I can’t do anything. Just watch him be miserable for the rest of his life? Knowing it’s because of me _?_ ”

Daichi smiles sadly, “The human heart is an amazing thing, Iwaizumi. Just give him time. He’ll be happy again one day.”

Hajime doesn’t seem impressed with the answer.

“And you’ll see him again before you know it,” Daichi promises, tugging his arm toward the gates, with an almost fatherly smile. “You’ll see.”

* * *

 

“I can’t fucking believe that’s how you died.” Hajime mutters into Oikawa’s neck as the other clings to him, having finally,  _finally_  rejoined him. After years of waiting and watching, he can finally hold him again. Finally revel in him. It’s a bit bittersweet, it feels too soon.

Oikawa laughs and the sound is so wonderful to Hajime’s ears. So pure, so  _happy_ , “Don’t be so  _mean_ , Iwa-chan.”

 “A successful business man, and at the age of fifty he slips on his own hair product and cracks his head open in the bathroom.” Hajime recites, shaking his head in disappointment, “You’re so unbelievably  _stupid_.”

Oikawa smiles sheepishly, “You don’t have to keep reminding me.” He whines, and then clings back on to him again, never wishing to let go,  “We can’t all die heroes, you know?” He decides to add, placing a delicate hand to the others face.

“Yeah, well, I terrified you for a while after that so it kinda cancels itself out, doesn’t it?” Hajime responds and Oikawa blinks at him in surprise, pausing. He frowns.

“You weren’t crazy.” Hajime assures, taking the hand from his face and looking up at the brunet’s eyes, “You were never crazy.”

Oikawa nibbles his lip, and lets out a shaky laugh, “That’s not what my therapist said.” And Hajime smiles a little, “That was...That was really you?”

Hajime hums, “We have eternity to talk about it so let’s drop it for now.” He pulls away a bit.

Oikawa looks a bit hesitant, but then he’s smiling at him, like a man who had been dying to see him after so long--which, he realizes, isn’t much of an overstatement. And Hajime’s chest is bubbling with all sorts of feelings from the utter love in that look and things are getting much too sappy for his liking so he decides to add, “Also fuck you for naming your cat after me.”

Oikawa blinks at the sudden statement and then lets out a laugh, “He was a great cat!” He insists.

“You made him fat.” Hajime glowers, and Oikawa pulls him closer to his chest, resting his head atop of Hajime’s own.  

“I love you too, Iwa-chan.” Oikawa breathes, nuzzling into his spiked up hair. Hajime can’t help the grin on his face as he’s smushed into Oikawa’s chest. Especially when he realizes he really does have eternity with this piece of shit again. And the bump in the road they faced was just a millisecond of their forever.

**Author's Note:**

> lmao i dont even know what this is i was just compelled to write it and there it is
> 
> have fun
> 
> i couldn't think of a title so i went the pretentious route
> 
> you can yell at me on tumblr


End file.
